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University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


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W^JA.^  alny>i^' /  criXh  c^u^y 


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CHAMBER  MUSIC 


CHAMBER  MUSIC 


BY 

JAMES  JOYCE 


THE  CORNHILL  COMPANY 
BOSTON 


I 


Strings  In  the  earth  and  air 

Make  music  sweet; 
Strings  by  the  river  where 

The  willows  meet. 

There's  music  along  the  river 
For  Love  wanders  there, 

Pale  flowers  on  his  mantle, 
Dark  leaves  on  his  hair. 

All  softly  playing, 

With  head  to  the  music  bent. 
And  fingers  straying 

Upon  an  instrument. 


II 


The  twilight  turns  from  amethyst 

To  deep  and  deeper  blue, 
The  lamp  fills  with  a  pale  green  glow 

The  trees  of  the  avenue. 

The  old  piano  plays  an  air, 

Sedate  and  slow  and  gay; 
She  bends  upon  the  yellow  keys. 

Her  head  inclines  this  way. 

Shy  thoughts  and  grave  wide  eyes  and 
hands 

That  wander  as  they  list  — 
The  twilight  turns  to  darker  blue 

With  lights  of  amethyst. 


Ill 

At  that  hour  when  all  things  have  repose, 

O  lonely  watcher  of  the  skies, 

Do  you  hear  the  night  wind  and  the  sighs 
Of  harps  playing  unto  Love  to  unclose 

The  pale  gates  of  sunrise? 

When  all  things  repose,  do  you  alone 
Awake  to  hear  the  sweet  harps  play 
To  Love  before  him  on  his  way. 

And  the  night  wind  answering  in  antiphon 
Till  night  is  overgone  ? 

Play  on,  invisible  harps,  unto  Love, 

Whose  way  in  heaven  Is  aglow 

At  that  hour  when  soft  lights  come  and  go, 
Soft  sweet  music  in  the  air  above 

And  in  the  earth  below. 


IV 

When  the  shy  star  goes  forth  in  heaven 

All  maidenly,  disconsolate, 
Hear  you  amid  the  drowsy  even 

One  who  is  singing  by  your  gate. 
His  song  is  softer  than  the  dew 

And  he  is  come  to  visit  you. 

O  bend  no  more  in  revery 

When  he  at  eventide  is  calling, 

Nor  muse:  Who  may  this  singer  be 
Whose  song  about  my  heart  is  falling? 

Know  you  by  this,  the  lover's  chant, 
'Tis  I  that  am  your  visitant. 


V 


Lean  out  of  the  window, 

Goldenhair, 
I  heard  you  singing 

A  merry  air. 

My  book  was  closed; 

I  read  no  more, 
Watching  the  fire  dance 

On  the  floor. 

I  have  left  my  book, 
I  have  left  my  room, 

For  I  heard  you  singing 
Through  the  gloom. 

Singing  and  singing 

A  merry  air. 
Lean  out  of  the  window, 

Goldenhair. 


VI 

I  WOULD  in  that  sweet  bosom  be 
(O  sweet  it  is  and  fair  it  is !) 

Where  no  rude  wind  might  visit  me. 
Because  of  sad  austerities 

I  would  in  that  sweet  bosom  be. 

I  would  be  ever  in  that  heart 

(O  soft  I  knock  and  soft  entreat  her!) 
Where  only  peace  might  be  my  part. 

Austerities  were  all  the  sweeter 
So  I  were  ever  in  that  heart. 


VII 

My  love  is  in  a  light  attire 

Among  the  apple-trees, 
Where  the  gay  winds  do  most  desire 

To  run  in  companies. 

There,  where  the  gay  winds  stay  to  woo 
The  young  leaves  as  they  pass, 

My  love  goes  slowly,  bending  to 
Her  shadow  on  the  grass; 

And  where  the  sky's  a  pale  blue  cup 

Over  the  laughing  land. 
My  love  goes  lightly,  holding  up 

Her  dress  with  dainty  hand. 


VIII 

Who  goes  amid  the  green  wood 
With  springtide  all  adorning  her? 

Who  goes  amid  the  merry  green  wood 
To  make  it  merrier? 

Who  passes  in  the  sunlight 

By  ways  that  know  the  light  footfall  ? 
Who  passes  in  the  sweet  sunlight 

With  mien  so  virginal? 

The  ways  of  all  the  woodland 

Gleam  with  a  soft  and  golden  fire  — 

For  whom  does  all  the  sunny  woodland 
Carry  so  brave  attire? 

O,  it  is  for  my  true  love 

The  woods  their  rich  apparel  wear  — 
O,  it  is  for  my  own  true  love, 

That  is  so  young  and  fair. 


IX 

Winds  of  May,  that  dance  on  the  sea, 
Dancing  a  ring-around  in  glee 
From  furrow  to  furrow,  while  overhead 
The  foam  flies  up  to  be  garlanded, 
In  silvery  arches  spanning  the  air. 
Saw  you  my  true  love  anywhere? 
Welladay!  Welladayl 
For  the  winds  of  May! 
Love  is  unhappy  when  love  is  away! 


Bright  cap  and  streamers, 
He  sings  in  the  hollow: 
Come  follow,  come  follow. 
All  you  that  love. 
Leave  dreams  to  the  dreamers 
That  will  not  after. 
That  song  and  laughter 
Do  nothing  move. 

With  ribbons  streaming 
He  sings  the  bolder; 
In  troop  at  his  shoulder 

The  wild  bees  hum. 
And  the  time  of  dreaming 
Dreams  is  over  — 
As  lover  to  lover, 

Sweetheart,  I  come. 


XI 

Bid  adieu,  adieu,  adieu, 

Bid  adieu  to  girlish  days, 
Happy  Love  is  come  to  woo 

Thee  and  woo  thy  girUsh  ways  — 
The  zone  that  doth  become  thee  fair, 
The  snood  upon  thy  yellow  hair. 

When  thou  hast  heard  his  name  upon 
The  bugles  of  the  cherubim 

Begin  thou  softly  to  unzone 
Thy  girlish  bosom  unto  him 

And  softly  to  undo  the  snood 

That  is  the  sign  of  maidenhood. 


XII 

What  counsel  has  the  hooded  moon 
Put  in  thy  heart,  my  shyly  sweet, 

Of  Love  in  ancient  plenilune. 

Glory  and  stars  beneath  his  feet  — 

A  sage  that  is  but  kith  and  kin 

With  the  comedian  Capuchin? 

Believe  me  rather  that  am  wise 

In  disregard  of  the  divine, 
A  glory  kindles  in  those  eyes 

Trembles  to  starlight.  Mine,  O  Minel 
No  more  be  tears  in  moon  or  mist 
For  thee,  sweet  sentimentalist. 


XIII 

Go  seek  her  out  all  courteously, 

And  say  I  come, 
Wind  of  spices  whose  song  is  ever 

Epithalamium. 
O,  hurry  over  the  dark  lands 

And  run  upon  the  sea 
For  seas  and  lands  shall  not  divide  us. 

My  love  and  me. 

Now,  wind,  of  your  good  courtesy 

I  pray  you  go. 
And  come  into  her  little  garden 

And  sing  at  her  window; 
Singing:  The  bridal  wind  is  blowing 

For  Love  is  at  his  noon; 
And  soon  will  your  true  love  be  with  you, 

Soon,  O  soon. 


XIV 

My  dove,  my  beautiful  one, 

Arise,  arise! 

The  night-dew  lies 
Upon  my  lips  and  eyes. 

The  odorous  winds  are  weaving 

A  music  of  sighs: 

Arise,  arise. 
My  dove,  my  beautiful  one! 

I  wait  by  the  cedar  tree. 

My  sister,  my  love. 

White  breast  of  the  dove. 
My  breast  shall  be  your  bed. 

The  pale  dew  lies 

Like  a  veil  on  my  head. 

My  fair  one,  my  fair  dove. 
Arise,  arise! 


XV 

From  dewy  dreams,  my  soul,  arise. 

From  love's  deep  slumber  and  from  death, 

For  lo!  the  trees  are  full  of  sighs 

Whose  leaves  the  morn  admonisheth. 

Eastward  the  gradual  dawn  prevails 
Where  softly-burning  fires  appear. 

Making  to  tremble  all  those  veils 
Of  grey  and  golden  gossamer. 

While  sweetly,  gently,  secretly. 

The  flowery  bells  of  morn  are  stirred 

And  the  wise  choirs  of  faery 

Begin  (innumerous!)  to  be  heard. 


XVI 

O  COOL  is  the  valley  now 

And  there,  love,  will  we  go 
For  many  a  choir  is  singing  now 

Where  Love  did  sometime  go. 
And  hear  you  not  the  thrushes  calling. 

Calling  us  away? 
O  cool  and  pleasant  is  the  valley 

And  there,  love,  will  we  stay. 


XVII 

Because  your  voice  was  at  my  side 

I  gave  him  pain, 
Because  within  my  hand  I  held 

Your  hand  again. 

There  is  no  word  nor  any  sign 

Can  make  amend  — 
He  is  a  stranger  to  me  now 

Who  was  my  friend. 


XVIII 

O  SWEETHEART,  hear  you 

Your  lover's  tale; 
A  man  shall  have  sorrow 

When  friends  him  fail. 

For  he  shall  know  then 

Friends  be  untrue 
And  a  little  ashes 

Their  words  come  to. 

But  one  unto  him 

Will  softly  move 
And  softly  woo  him 

In  ways  of  love. 

His  hand  is  under 

Her  smooth  round  breast; 
So  he  who  has  sorrow 

Shall  have  rest. 


XIX 

Be  not  sad  because  all  men 

Prefer  a  lying  clamour  before  you : 

Sweetheart,  be  at  peace  again  — 
Can  they  dishonour  you? 

They  are  sadder  than  all  tears; 

Their  lives  ascend  as  a  continual  sigh. 
Proudly  answer  to  their  tears: 

As  they  deny,  deny. 


XX 

In  the  dark  pine-wood 

I  would  we  lay, 
In  deep  cool  shadow 

At  noon  of  day. 

How  sweet  to  lie  there, 

Sweet  to  kiss. 
Where  the  great  pine-forest 

Enaisled  is! 

Thy  kiss  descending 

Sweeter  were 
With  a  soft  tumult 

Of  thy  hair. 

O,  unto  the  pine-wood 

At  noon  of  day 
Come  with  me  now. 

Sweet  love,  away. 


XXI 

He  who  hath  glory  lost,  nor  hath 
Found  any  soul  to  fellow  his, 

Among  his  foes  in  scorn  and  wrath 
Holding  to  ancient  nobleness. 

That  high  unconsortable  one  — 

His  love  is  his  companion. 


XXII 

Of  that  so  sweet  imprisonment 
My  soul,  dearest,  is  fain  • — 

Soft  arms  that  woo  me  to  relent 
And  woo  me  to  detain. 

Ah,  could  they  ever  hold  me  there 

Gladly  were  I  a  prisoner! 

Dearest,  through  interwoven  arms 
By  love  made  tremulous, 

That  night  allures  me  where  alarms 
Nowise  may  trouble  us; 

But  sleep  to  dreamier  sleep  be  wed 

Where  soul  with  soul  lies  prisoned. 


XXIII 

This  heart  that  flutters  near  my  heart 
My  hope  and  all  my  riches  is, 

Unhappy  when  we  draw  apart 
And  happy  between  kiss  and  kiss; 

My  hope  and  all  my  riches  —  yes !  — 

And  all  my  happiness. 

For  there,  as  in  some  mossy  nest 

The  wrens  will  divers  treasures  keep, 

I  laid  those  treasures  I  possessed 
Ere  that  mine  eyes  had  learned  to 
weep. 

Shall  we  not  be  as  wise  as  they 

Though  love  live  but  a  day? 


XXIV 

Silently  she's  combing, 

Combing  her  long  hair, 
Silently  and  graciously. 

With  many  a  pretty  air. 

The  sun  is  in  the  willow  leaves 
And  on  the  dappled  grass, 

And  still  she's  combing  her  long  hair 
Before  the  looking-glass. 

I  pray  you,  cease  to  comb  out. 
Comb  out  your  long  hair. 

For  I  have  heard  of  witchery 
Under  a  pretty  air. 

That  makes  as  one  thing  to  the  lover 

Staying  and  going  hence. 
All  fair,  with  many  a  pretty  air 

And  many  a  negligence. 


XXV 

Lightly  come  or  lightly  go : 

Though  thy  heart  presage  thee  woe, 
Vales  and  many  a  wasted  sun, 

Oread  let  thy  laughter  run 
Till  the  irreverent  mountain  air 
Ripple  all  thy  flying  hair. 

Lightly,  lightly  —  ever  so : 

Clouds  that  wrap  the  vales  below 

At  the  hour  of  evenstar 
Lowliest  attendants  are; 

Love  and  laughter  song-confessed 

When  the  heart  is  heaviest. 


XXVI 

Thou  leanest  to  the  shell  of  night, 

Dear  lady,  a  divining  ear. 
In  that  soft  choiring  of  delight 

What  sound  hath  made  thy  heart  to  fear? 
Seemed  it  of  rivers  rushing  forth 
From  the  grey  deserts  of  the  north  ? 

That  mood  of  thine,  O  timorous, 
Is  his,  if  thou  but  scan  it  well. 

Who  a  mad  tale  bequeaths  to  us 
At  ghosting  hour  conjurable  — 

And  all  for  some  strange  name  he  read 

In  Purchas  or  in  Holinshed. 


XXVII 

Though  I  thy  Mithridates  were, 
Framed  to  defy  the  poison-dart, 

Yet  must  thou  fold  me  unaware 
To  know  the  rapture  of  thy  heart, 

And  I  but  render  and  confess 

The  malice  of  thy  tenderness. 

For  elegant  and  antique  phrase, 
Dearest,  my  lips  wax  all  too  wise; 

Nor  have  I  known  a  love  whose  praise 
Our  piping  poets  solemnize. 

Neither  a  love  where  may  not  be 

Ever  so  little  falsity. 


XXVIII 

Gentle  lady,  do  not  sing 

Sad  songs  about  the  end  of  love; 
Lay  aside  sadness  and  sing 

How  love  that  passes  is  enough. 

Sing  about  the  long  deep  sleep 
Of  lovers  that  are  dead,  and  how 

In  the  grave  all  love  shall  sleep : 
Love  is  aweary  now. 


XXIX 

Dear  heart,  why  will  you  use  me  so? 

Dear  eyes  that  gently  me  upbraid, 
Still  are  you  beautiful  —  but  O, 

How  is  your  beauty  raimentedl 

Through  the  clear  mirror  of  your  eyes, 
Through  the  soft  sigh  of  kiss  to  kiss. 

Desolate  winds  assail  with  cries 
The  shadowy  garden  where  love  is. 

And  soon  shall  love  dissolved  be 

When  over  us  the  wild  winds  blow  — 

But  you,  dear  love,  too  dear  to  me, 
Alas!  why  will  you  use  me  so? 


XXX 

Love  came  to  us  in  time  gone  by 
When  one  at  twilight  shyly  played 

And  one  in  fear  was  standing  nigh  — 
For  Love  at  first  is  all  afraid. 

We  were  grave  lovers.     Love  is  past 
That  had  his  sweet  hours  many  a  one; 

Welcome  to  us  now  at  the  last 
The  ways  that  we  shall  go  upon. 


XXXI 

O,  it  was  out  by  Donnycarney 

When  the  bat  flew  from  tree  to  tree 

My  love  and  I  did  walk  together; 

And  sweet  were  the  words  she  said  to  me. 

Along  with  us  the  summer  wind 
Went  murmuring  —  O,  happily  1  — 

But  softer  than  the  breath  of  summer 
Was  the  kiss  she  gave  to  me. 


XXXII 

Rain  has  fallen  all  the  day. 

O  come  among  the  laden  trees : 
The  leaves  lie  thick  upon  the  way 

Of  memories. 

Staying  a  little  by  the  way 
Of  memories  shall  we  depart. 

Come,  my  beloved,  where  I  may 
Speak  to  your  heart. 


XXXIII 

Now,  O  now,  in  this  brown  land 

Where  Love  did  so  sweet  music  make 

We  two  shall  wander,  hand  in  hand. 
Forbearing  for  old  friendship'  sake, 

Nor  grieve  because  our  love  was  gay 

Which  now  is  ended  in  this  way. 

A  rogue  in  red  and  yellow  dress 
Is  knocking,  knocking  at  the  tree; 

And  all  around  our  loneliness 
The  wind  is  whistling  merrily. 

The  leaves  —  they  do  not  sigh  at  all 

When  the  year  takes  them  in  the  fall. 

Now,  O  now,  we  hear  no  more 
The  vilanelle  and  roundelay! 

Yet  will  we  kiss,  sweetheart,  before 
We  take  sad  leave  at  close  of  day. 

Grieve  not,  sweetheart,  for  anything  — 

The  year,  the  year  is  gathering. 


XXXIV 

Sleep  now,  O  sleep  now, 
O  you  unquiet  heart! 

A  voice  crying  "  Sleep  now  " 
Is  heard  in  my  heart. 

The  voice  of  the  winter 
Is  heard  at  the  door. 

O  sleep,  for  the  winter 

Is  crying  "  Sleep  no  more." 

My  kiss  will  give  peace  now 
And  quiet  to  your  heart  — 

Sleep  on  in  peace  now, 
O  you  unquiet  heart! 


XXXV 

All  day  I  hear  the  noise  of  waters 

Making  moan, 
Sad  as  the  sea-bird  is,  when  going 

Forth  alone, 
He  hears  the  winds  cry  to  the  waters' 

Monotone. 

The  grey  winds,  the  cold  winds  are  blowing 

Where  I  go. 
I  hear  the  noise  of  many  waters 

Far  below. 
All  day,  all  night,  I  hear  them  flowing 

To  and  fro. 


XXXVI 

I  HEAR  an  army  charging  upon  the  land, 
And  the  thunder  of  horses  plunging, 
foam  about  their  knees : 
Arrogant,  in  black  armour,  behind  them 
stand. 
Disdaining  the  reins,  with  fluttering 
whips,  the  charioteers. 

They  cry  unto  the  night  their  battle-name; 
I  moan  in  sleep  when  I  hear  afar  their 
whirling  laughter. 
They  cleave  the  gloom  of  dreams,  a 
blinding  flame. 
Clanging,  clanging  upon  the  heart  as 
.    upon  an  anvil. 

They  come  shaking  in  triumph  their  long, 
green  hair; 
They  come  out  of  the  sea  and  run 
shouting  by  the  shore. 
My  heart,  have  you  no  wisdom  thus  to 
despair? 
My  love,  my  love,  my  love,  why  have 
you  left  me  alone? 


